Category Archives: Classics Revisited

Rodenbach is a brewery founded in 1821 in Roeselare, Belgium. It specializes in barrel-aged sour Flemish Reds, with three distinct types: Original, Grand Cru and Vintage, differing in blends and age. All absolutely delicious, berry balsamic tart perfection. Rodenbach Vintage is the definition of classic revisited: a world-class Flanders Red that is aged in a single wooden vat (or foeder), and is released once every year. If you live in Toronto, you will probably only revisit it once a month, since you will need to stock up on your entire year’s supply at Christmas time, the only time it is available at the LCBO. Otherwise, Grand Cru is usually on tap at Bar Hop and a select few other places. Tweet me if you want to know where else to find it @ccprmaven.

Orval is back on LCBO shelves after a long hiatus, which makes me so happy. I drank one and am aging five — one each year until 2020. Orval is one of those rare beers that gets better with age, as it is bottle conditioned with Brett Brux (the same yeast Bellwoods uses!), which makes the beer more sour and complex with age. A strong Belgian trappist ale dating back to 1628, Orval is one of those beers whose narrative adds to its allure. If you look at the bottle or cap, you will see a fish with a ring in its mouth. Here’s why:

Countess Matilde of Tuscany was a widow and her wedding ring had accidentally fallen into the fountain. She prayed to the Lord and at once a trout rose to the surface with the precious ring in its mouth. Matilde exclaimed: “Truly this place is a Val d’Or!” In gratitude, she decided to establish a monastery on the site. (Legend of Orval)

When I first heard this story, it was narrated by a beer geek who gave me my first bottle of Orval. I remember it being aged quite a bit, and it tasted rancid. Now that I’m into funky beers, let’s see how I find it five years from now…

This is a beer I’ve had the pleasure of drinking a few times at Bar Hop, and recently showed face at the LCBO (in addition to some other awesome Belgian brews). It’s also one of those rare brews that has a rating of 100 on ratebeer.

Okay. So Cantillon, the mother of all sours since 1900, never has to be “revisited” because it is always the boss. Many people don’t know what it is, though. Especially if you live in Toronto, where the stuff is pretty hard to find (though bar Volo always has the best selection and WVRST has a couple), and costs around $45 a bottle. The LCBO will never carry Cantillon. It’s the one brewery you should definitely visit if you go to Belgium, where you can witness open fermentation in all its musty glory, and apparently has a wicked cool cellar.

If you can’t make it to Belgium, head to whichever bar in your city/country is chosen each year for Zwanze Day, a celebration (and exclusive club of sorts) of all things Cantillon. For me, that’s Volo.

Zwanze Day at Volo

Though I hope to try many more varieties, the sip of apricot Fou’ Foune I had this summer at Zwanze Day was pure love, and the Rosé de Gambrinus and Grand Cru Bruocsella were as expected: sour, tart. I’d love to try the elderflower Mamouche, and the Muscat Saint Lamvinus (which Volo carries). Until then I will dream of Cantillon.

Saison Dupont is the standard that most beer geeks hold saisons to. Around since 1844, this traditional Belgian farmhouse ale is brewed in the wintertime, and then goes through a second refermentation in the barrel. I thought it was called saison (French for season) because it’s traditionally a summer ale, but Brasserie Dupont’s website details the origin:

During the next summer, this very thirst-quenching beer was served to the “saisoniers” which were working on the fields. Surely therefore, our Saison Dupont is considered as “the classic” among the Belgian season beers!

As the Belgian yeast continues to live in the bottle, further bottle fermentation brings out funkier, bolder flavours in the beer, and allows it to be aged for quite a few years. My bottle, bought in 2014, suggests it can be aged until 2017. It didn’t survive that long though… it’s what I drank on New Years! Since saison is the champagne of beers, I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate.

Mort Subite – referring to the “sudden death” round in a card game, or the Mort Subite café in Brussels – is a perfect introductory sour beer. Lightly sour and fruity, it’s a refreshing kriek, and most importantly for us Ontarians, it’s the most widely available lambic sold at the LCBO (and in keg form at The Beer Store)! The kriek is brewed with cherries and elderberries, and there is a raspberry version available in the LCBO as well. There are apparently many more varieties available in Belgium, but alas, I have not tried them.

Mort Subite is made by the Belgian brewery De Keersmaeker, which has been partly owned by Alken-Maes since 1989 (owned by Heineken since 2007). One can imagine the beer has been around for quite a while then.

Belgian sours undergo spontaneous fermentation due to naturally occurring yeasts in Brussels air. Pretty darn cool. Cantillon is one of the most well-known sours, and one of the hardest to obtain in Ontario, because the way it is made does not mesh with the LCBO’s rules. Bar Volo has the best selection of Cantillon bottles in the city. La Palette sometimes has Mort Subite on tap, though. Visit both.

McAuslan’s St-Ambroise Oatmeal Stout, hailing from Montreal but consistently available in Toronto, is the beer that got me into craft beer. I first had it in 2006; my first summer volunteering for The Fringe Festival (of which McAuslan is a sponsor). Though the ratebeer reviews start back when the site launched in the year 2000, this beer has been around since 1991 (the brewery launched in 1989). It’s best on tap (nitro, of course), but is also available in bottles, and, starting this year: tall boys!

Oatmeal Stout is classically creamy, with roasty notes of chocolate and coffee. This beer is great for any season, though most people associate stouts with wintertime. Whenever people think Guinness is what a stout is supposed to taste like, I ask them if they’ve ever tried Oatmeal Stout. It’s a whole new world. I used this beer for my first pairing: beer floats using Greg’s Roasted Marshmallow ice cream (my favourite) in my sorority’s basement.

According to Wikipedia, oatmeal stout normally contains a maximum of 30% oats, added during the brewing process. This imparts a bitter flavour. The smoothness of oatmeal stout comes from the high content of proteins, lipids (includes fats and waxes), and gums imparted by the use of oats. The gums increase the viscosity and body, adding to the sense of smoothness.

I suggest you enjoy this beer while listening to Pharoahe Monch’s “Body Baby”. This beer has body for daaaaaaaaays.

Fuller’s was founded in 1845 in London, England. Their Extra Special Bitter (ESB), around since 1971, is a twice named World Champion Beer, and is a strong(ish, for an English ale: 5.5%), smooth, full-bodied ale. It is Extra Special because they already have a Special bitter in their flagship London Pride. In England, anything over 4.8% is strong, because traditionally you would drink these all night in some homely pub to escape the dreariness of life and be among friends. Or you’d be drinking all day on the job: since beer is initially boiled, there was a time when it was safer than drinking water (and still is in many parts of the world).

I first had Fuller’s ESB on tap at Town Crier a couple summers ago, and quite liked it. I have always remembered it fondly.

According to Wikipedia, The beer was rebranded from its old black and red livery, to the current blue and gold in late 2004 in an attempt to shake off its reputation as a very strong beer.

It is sold in both 5.5% cask conditioned form as well as pasteurised at 5.9% in bottles and kegs. It is brewed with Pale Ale and Crystal malts, bringing both biscuit flavours and soft malt toffee notes to the fore.

Canuck, formerly known as Crazy Canuck, has been around for over four years (but based on the old can design I had assumed it was around for much longer). It’s a great example of a beer that completely profited from rebranding. Now that the can is prettier, people notice it more, and you can get it on draft at several beer bars in and around the city. It’s a west coast (i.e. American) style beer, and the taste is bright and very hoppy; the flagship Great Lakes flavour. Great Lakes reps have told me that it is “fresher” now. Probably because they’re making more of it.

I’ve even heard people speculate that the recipe is different. When I asked GLB rep Jen Shute if this is the case, again, the answer is simple: “same old Canuck, just fresher.”

Since pale ales are meant to be consumed when they’re freshest, I suggest you buy one and drink it immediately. Listen to this song while you’re at it. Cheers to you, Gordie Levesque.

California beer. Some of the best beer in the world, and one of the reasons I want to move south of the border. San Francisco’s flagship beer, Anchor Steam, is a balanced, hop-forward biscuity 4.8% ale that comes in cute stubby bottles with a classic anchor design.

Last year, I watched a documentary on YouTube called “Craft Beer – A Hopumentary” and within the first two minutes they talk about Anchor Steam Beer revolutionizing America’s beer scene in the ’80s. There were around 100 breweries in the U.S. at that time, and now there are close to 3,000. That’s a 100 per cent increase in breweries every two years!

It’s called a steam beer because it was traditionally brewed in 1896 without refrigeration — the brewers used the cool California air to release steam off the boil. Though it’s no longer brewed that way thanks to modern brewing methods, it still tips its hat to its heritage. I suggest you enjoy a cold one while listening to the classic California band: The Beach Boys.